NaBloPoMo Advice Column - Day 3 - Surround Yourself With Beauty

Porcelain Dessert Plates - made by me

People often sink to the lowest common denominator. Being practical triumphs over beauty, and I fear where we're headed. A particular low point was the introduction of plastic dinnerware in my house - something I do not ever recall using when I was a kid. Now that Helen and Connor are getting older, it's possible to re-infuse beauty in our daily meals, packing away that plastic junk.

I spent several years throwing pots. During that time, I attended a workshop led by Kevin Crowe and he drove the point home that he is very aware when he makes pots that he is taking perfectly good earth and turning it into a material good - which is not, on face, a desirable thing. He focuses on functional pottery, because he wants to use that good earth for a defined purpose.

I love that.

And the philosophy certainly jives with the potter I studied under for years in Adams Morgan, Jill Hinckley. One year, in fact, many people received mugs from me at Christmas because Jill made an off-hand remark about a mug being the most intimate gift you could give someone. Every time the person uses the mug, they must hold it in their hands. They feel its weight. Perhaps the handle gives pause, or the color, or the foot. These were primitive pots that I gifted for sure, and I do cringe a bit whenever I visit my in-laws and see this chunky pot I made my father-in-law. But I also try and use it at least once each visit, because I want to remember that point in my pottery life. I do, however, look forward to replacing it some day.

For a time, I used a yellow plastic mug at my office that I had carried with me from college. It was practical. It held a lot of water. It would never get confused with someone else's mug, so it could easily be left behind in the office kitchen and it would always find its way back to me. And then one day, I tossed it in the trash. And now I use a mug I purchased from Kevin so many years ago. The mug looks something like this. I adore it. And someday, when it meets the fate of all ceramic things and breaks, I will miss it very much.

Our dinner table is adorned with handmade items. Helen and I share hot chocolate in handmade mugs. Someday, I will make her a tiny mugs to replace the ones that fell to their death almost the moment her 2 year old hands touched them, much to Connor's (and my!) dismay.

I was once preparing to serve dessert at my home. A friend's husband actually set aside the handmade plate I offered him (that I made - one from the trio of plates above) in lieu of the manufactured plate so "it would stack better in the dishwasher". I small piece of me died when I heard him say that.

It's true, my collection of plates do not fit neatly in the dishwasher. And it's also true that unlike the daily china Ed and I ate off for 10 years, I will be a little sad when a plate gets chipped.

porcelain dinner plate, made by me

stoneware plate - made by Mike Pappas

porcelain plate, made by Jill Hinckley

stoneware plate by Jill Hinckley

stoneware plate by Jill Hinckley

All of these pots have a story. For example, Mike is an organic farmer in the area. The plate above that he made was imprinted with a fence post from his farm. The kids love that story. But what they really love are the "bumps" on the plate beneath it that Jill made. After throwing the plate, Jill altered the plate with her hands, which gives it a great, one-of-a-kind touch.


This dinnerware is alive. It brings humanity to our daily rituals.

Elaine

Building a worldview:
Day 1: Surround Yourself With Brilliant People (though my friend Susan makes a good point that clever is pretty good, too).
Day 2: Whatever, it works.